


heat of the moment

by calla_lilalma



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Soulmates, minor manga spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 13:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calla_lilalma/pseuds/calla_lilalma
Summary: The nearer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you feel. It's the one compass to find who one is tied with.For those with the atypical heat of the Vermillion fire flowing within their veins, the needles have long broken, stay irreparable.That is, until Salamander enters the picture and asks Fuegoleon Vermillion one question.





	heat of the moment

**Author's Note:**

> Hei! I've had a hellish week (it's Wednesday, you might say... exactly, i respond) and I need the joy posting something gives me.  
Hope you enjoy! :)

_'Do you wish to know your other half?'_

The dust has settled, the threat has been defeated and the Clover Kingdom is safe from the vengeful elves.

Yet the invasion has still left a chaotic void behind.

Fuegoleon, despite being recovered for a short while, gets to work to assist vigorously, channeling all the built-up energy that boils within him. The healers attempt to convince him for a few more check-ups but soon give up at the face of the famous Vermillion hotheadedness. Mimosa asked only once, purely out if formality and show of her concern, knowing the answer already.

There is much destruction to fix and their numbers are low due to the Magic Knights possessed by elves being put out of commission. Those that remain have to pick up the slack, the captains under instructions of a child looking, but still competent Julius who is going to resume his duties directly and solely to them until balance is restored, all under the secrecy of his circumstances.

Mereoleona and him lead the Crimson Lions in taking care of the civilians staying in the capital, rescuing those under the fallen buildings, looking for those still untreated. His sister may have been adamant to avoid the position of captain, but her actions feel fluid, like the rank is tailored for her. It becomes a benevolent competition between them, another extension of their sibling rivalry, firing up their subordinates in the process. Leopold is found at either of their heels all the time and Fuegoleon can't help but smile at his restless energy and ruffle his hair.

After a full day like that, rest, even back at home, is minimal for him. Fuegoleon needs to sense the world again, connect the visions and the sounds to the mana flowing all over to erase the void of forced, unpleasant slumber; Fuegoleon was fighting the emptiness and motionlessness with all his being until he opened his eyes. Therefore, he stays awake and works in Leo's room while hearing his hearty snores, like they did when he was younger and begging him to stay.

Hours pass, he lights up new candles until his eyelids are heavy and his mind sluggish. He doesn't want to retire, enter that state again, yet his body demands it. To his displeasure, like the previous days, he is well aware that he'll sleep and wake up unsatisfied.

It's when Salamader's question echoes the most vibrantly, plaguing his restlessness to further spiral.

_Does he wish to know about his soulmate?_ The answer is offered to him by one of the four great spirits, each of them so powerful and holding knowledge that no human comprehends. It should be of no surprise that it knows about another higher concept like soulmates, especially with Salamander being the spirit of fire and when warmth around your soulmate as well as coldness apart from them is how one finds them. Shakes the foundations he was raised in.

In the Vermillion main family, soulmates have been rendered an abandoned cause that holds none of the impact as do to the rest. When they have been blessed with fire that has remained unchanged for generations, passed down while burning the exact same since the beginning, which gives them naturally higher body temperature, some things are sacrificed for the sake of others. Resistance to cold and heat alike nullifies finding a soulmate with whom you'll feel colder when farther away and warmer the closer the distance an impossibility to the point of farce.

It's a double-edged sword whose cutting edge has dulled and rusted over the generations. While their ancestors must have felt pain and loss, today no one in Fuegoleon's family loses a drop of blood.

Their parents, as so their parents before them, had dismissed their search for their soulmates and shrugged in the face of not finding their fateful partner. To them it was freedom to follow their hearts' desire. It rarely made for a fascinating story at family gatherings but the happiness in their eyes as they gaze at their chosen one made a tale by itself.

With that notion prominent in their upbringing, it's no wonder that they grew up so headstrong. Mereoleona is always more interested in the wilderness, her love to test her limits and fight, without any shackles of rankings or properties has also made her the more defiant of the three siblings to not be manipulated by fate.

As for Fuegoleon himself, his ambition and pride were always his leading forces. To become his greatest self, a good Magic Knight and captain of the Crimson Lions, to reach his goal to become the Magic Emperor, a man that can be trusted and his younger self would be proud of. Like his sister, he disliked being stringed along by something like fate and limiting himself because of some supposed outside factor directing his emotions.

Still, it'd be a lie to say his mind hasn't drifted, hasn't envisioned vividly the idea of a soulmate fateful only for him, possibly more than most of his family in the same situation.

This is an offer that many would kill for, his ancestors included; its gravity is not to be underestimated and he doesn't plan to think lightly on it. Especially when he holds someone dear in his heart for more than twenty years. Whose absence these nights makes them linger torturously without feather light breathing to accompany his own.

During solitary nights like this, he only has the strong memory of Nozel's cool and slender body fitting perfectly with his own, in his embrace like the missing blue on a painting of the sky. The urgency of the situation keeps them apart, Nozel is travelling multiple times to the border to observe the neighboring nations.

When they meet on the captains' meetings, they stand close and everything feels warm, the content in Nozel's heavy lidded gaze obvious only to him. He wants to whisk them far away, steal long moments from his lips and finally, properly reunite- especially after their stormy separation before they had headed out to the attacked capital.

It's the other type of occasion when the endlessly repeated question catches him, prowling in his mind like a predator lurking for its prey. Its implications slowly infecting the moments of Nozel's presence near him and their calming effect with unwanted thoughts.

Fuegoleon had long ago fallen for Nozel in a manner than one would now dismiss from the incredulousness; at first sight and in an instant, like a lightning so fast and an energy so forceful it was ridiculous to witness. His tongue swallowed and his face red as if from fatal fever, he couldn't keep his eyes off the pretty boy standing next to Lady Acier that unforgettable sunny day, one hand fisted in her cape, and introducing himself with the trained etiquette of a Silva. Mereoleona's harsh hit and cackling laughter at his expense had brought him back to life but not to his natural color.

Holding Nozel's alabaster hand then to lead them to his favourite places to play, so fragile looking, its coolness was contrasting his heat pleasantly. When Nozel made the same observation with a shy, content expression, Fuegoleon preened about his affinity. Something he continues to do whenever he becomes a source of comfort from Nozel's sensitivity to the cold, be it an innocuous nearness or, behind closed doors to the world, with nights where they embrace and don't let go until morning.

They fit so seamlessly together, still do with the knowledge and trust that built up for so long based on so many experience- they have sculptured something truly magnificent.

He's ashamed that Salamander's question is bothering him so much. It shouldn't have yet here it is, contributing to an already splitting headache. Silently, he retreats to his room and makes himself fall asleep with the phantom scent of orchids and metal his mind provides to lull him into uneasy slumber.

* * *

"You are distracted."

Fuegoleon turns away from observing his squad's work towards the low melody of Nozel's voice. Standing close, inconspicuously so for an outsider but at a casual intimate closeness for the two of them in public eye, his real scent mellows down the larger bulk of his tension.

"What makes you say that?"

Nozel glances at him from the corner of his eye. Fuegoleon can't help his own quip of lips; he can't hide much from him, the knowing looks from his amethyst eyes pierce through his fronts just by themselves.

"There are many things to tend to at once, that's all." he answers truthfully as well as cryptically; lying isn't like him, more so to those he cares deeply about.

Nozel hums, dissatisfied with the answer but it's better than his hurting by a lie he'd see clearly through. They walk away to continue the inspection elsewhere, side by side in complete comfortable silence.

A light breeze passes them, cool to signify the summer season leaving them. His smile widens to something more genuine, Nozel is walking even closer to him now, it'd be easy to slip his arm around his waist under his cape and hide it here. By its thickness and that of the rest of his clothes as well as the boots, he's on his way of leaving again for the colder regions.

"You might presently be the former captain of the Crimson Lions-" Nozel starts with stabbing words, accompanied by a slight tilt of his head and a playful upwards pull of his lips that always makes his heart rattle from inside the confinement of his ribcage "-but that doesn't give you the freedom to be negligent of your health after recovering."

The glimpse of concern to the scar of his regenerated arm at the spot where it was cut off, its fire resting for now, doesn't go unnoticed either.

Fuegoleon can't help the fondness set ablaze within him, can't help but give in to his desire and grab Nozel by the waist and take him to a private spot, just the two of them. Collided chest to chest, he leans down to steal a moment and capture thin rosy lips.

Their kiss is tentative at first, before Nozel gives in and presses against them firmer, raising to meet him halfway. It's not feverish or deep, doesn't need to in order to be just as exhilarating. Their mana traces each other in the edges, touches and mingles naturally, like they've been made for each other.

Suddenly, he's a teenager again, having his first kiss after a particularly intense sparring session, distracted and bursting to his seams with affection that proved to be mutual after a push of impulsivity. Similar to then, he wonders about how him being soulmates with Nozel made perfect sense- the feeling of warmth he didn't know he could feel any further, setting his immune skin aflame from underneath with no will to escape it.

It would make reason of his instantaneous puppy love not only enduring but prevailing and blossoming. He had spent countless days searching the libraries about the phenomenon right along with his studies, seeking further understanding - only to find none and ultimately bury it.

Perhaps Nozel holds the key. He's the opposite case of Fuegoleon's side effects of his affinity with his own awareness of the cold, more than most.

From what he told him, Nozel is hyper aware of the temperatures in comparison to others; they affect him more drastically, especially as they lower, even though his skin is always already cool. Maybe it works as a balancing factor to Fuegoleon's affinity's density, serving as a better compass and advantage of finding his soulmate.

Wouldn't he tell him though? If they were truly meant for each other, Nozel would have told him by now if he knew. It would be a pleasant turn of events that wouldn't affect them as much as his present conundrum.

Or… perhaps it isn't him, and the person is still out there, never acknowledged and waiting their own fate. Perhaps his own affinity is serving as a fake indication that Nozel clings to because he doesn’t know any better or doesn't care to while the one meant for him is so far away, the reason of this sensitivity. Perhaps he seeks warmth, wherever that may be and Fuegoleon was always by his side, naturally providing it aplenty.

_'You have the opportunity.' _Salamander whispers in comfort, interrupting his descending thoughts. The spirit and its inquiries never mean harm- it has chosen him as its master and serves on his favor. Its fire may have been challenging in the beginning but he finds no enemy in Salamander's settlement in his mana and soul; though it doesn't prevent this current, reopened turmoil.

Pulling away from the kiss, all fades into the background as he watches enraptured how Nozel opens his eyes slowly, landing back to the here and the now and gazing at him with his own kind of indecently tender affection.

Before their own dome breaks under reality, Fuegoleon clings to its last fractions as long as possible, swipes at Nozel's silver braid to place a kiss on his forehead, savoring the sight of his uncovered face, pristine marble skin with doll like features for his longing, solitary moments- his to admire and know and love.

He sees Nozel off with a bitter taste lingering in his mouth and heads to his own assignments promptly, before Mereoleona does something reckless again out of boredom or Leo runs himself to the ground. Maybe he can prevent those both by coaxing a spar from them for all their sakes- his own too, to keep the question down into a mere whisper. Maybe Salamander too will shift focus to honing their fighting skills and testing compatibility through their power than spinning words around his head like ever an expanding thread.

* * *

"If I accept your offer," he wonders out loud a couple of days later at one nightfall while looking at paperwork in his office -Mereoleona never comes near it, gags at the sole thought of it, "what information would you give me?"

Salamander's voice rumbles deep in his head, not unpleasantly, steady with wisdom- expected for a spirit of its reputation.

_Everything_, it says with a patient voice, _their name, how they look like, lead you to them until you are face to face with your fateful one._ Each word heavy in its significance, the power it holds to what is the most important in his life.

Fuegoleon has the knowledge within his reach; to become the exception of what was once a curse.

Times haven’t changed even after so long, soulmates have been hallowed into a precious relic of a time when humans didn't have magic, where the only magic was their soulmates. It should have been so easy to say yes and live with the knowledge and continue dismiss it. Yet deeply hidden curiosity has come to the front once more after being dormant for years.

"Are you certain that they exist? That fate still ties someone to a Vermillion?" for a long while, the tale that fate had abandoned his family and all like them for the type of magic they've been blessed with and the immense power that coursed through their bloodline. To respond to their hubris. It is the more popular rumor among the many that have been written in the books -along with laments and excuses from his ancestors- which has been murmured to outsiders alike.

Fuegoleon hadn’t been deaf to the whispers, had had to reassure a small Mimosa that came crying to him in order to comfort him and Mereoleona about the 'curse' instead, affected more than them with her soft heart growing up with fairy tales.

_Forbidden is revealing any knowledge about other humans as long as I am not free, there is however one tied to you, Fuegoleon Vermillion, and you as well are tied to one other. _Salamander responds in wise amusement that he can't help but share a little. Small graces.

It would be so simple to not have a soulmate or be someone's in return. The easy way out that frees him from any guilt or further thought of someone that might be in the other side of the world for all he knows. As a captain he's learned to think of others and take the road with less collateral damage as much as possible, think of the optimal strategy when his idealistic way fails.

Yet love is not under the same rules as the battlefield, regardless of how it's said. It's harder to conflict with yourself alone than an enemy you can see. There are no logical strategies, nothing is learned with anything other than experience and obstacles are a part of the road, always. 

He misses Nozel; in the clear night full of stars and a beautiful moon to gaze at, none of them compares. Time hasn't been lenient to them for a long while and while occasionally it's bearable, at moments like the present, he can't stand it.

A knock comes from the door. He sighs tiredly, calls for the visitor to come in; probably someone with more papers to look and sign at or something else to attend to.

To his deep delight, as if he summoned him, Nozel enters the office, all light steps like a floating projection of Fuegoleon's deepest desires. Yet he's real and looking at him with a mixed exasperation as he settles himself on the couch gracefully.

Fuegoleon follows him with his eyes, affection running through his veins.

"How was your mission?"

"Hn. Thankfully uneventful." he responds and Fuegoleon just notices the pink hue on his cheeks and the strain in his speech, obscured in the low lights of the room.

He knows this face and from the way that Nozel avoids his gaze, it's all the more evident.

"Wait…Are you drunk?" he asks, torn between mirth and chastising.

"Of course not." Is the prompt response. Quick enough to doubt his accusation and show some proof of sobriety. "I came to find you in the estate. Mereoleona was there and told me that you are still here. Working." his lips form the tiniest of pouts and Fuegoleon barely holds back his tired mind and body to not kiss it a swollen red. "The border might have been uneventful, but far from vacation. I had some of the sweet drink she offered."

Ah. No wonder then. His sister has the habit of getting Nozel drunk or at the very least tipsy and sending him to Fuegoleon's arms for her own wicked reasons each time. She has fully taken advantage of Nozel's fatal sweet tooth and instead of the bitter sake that his childish tongue despised, she gives him sweet, fruit scented drinks with pretty colors that hide more alcohol than any product in her stash. And Nozel had never developed a resistance to alcohol and thus one or two small glasses could do unspeakable things.

Things that Fuegoleon has lived through and through. To this day, he can't find it to himself to hold a grudge against Mereoleona, no matter how annoying her smirk is the next morning.

"You should probably lie down then. In case you feel any dizziness."

"We will not be staying here for long. It's late and I'm tired.”

A pang of guilt constricts his chest. He can make a safe assumption that Nozel was worried about him since the last time they met, how he traveled with that burden away and back home. Instead of resting, he chose to come and find Fuegoleon, in his tired, tipsy but determined condition.

He gets up and urges Nozel to lie fully down, meeting slight resistance but more so the deceivingly delicate looking hands settling upon his shoulders. His cheeks fill further with pink, enchanting from up close.

"I'm sorry for making you worry." he laments with a sigh, showing his own accumulating tiredness, "You should have rested instead of coming to look for me."

It's not what Nozel would like to hear, grabbing him tighter and manhandling them so that it's Fuegoleon that is laying down with Nozel straddling his hips and stomach.

Fuegoleon shouldn't have been so surprised, Nozel is strong and he unsuspecting. He stares with sharp eyes at the erotic sight of Nozel carelessly unclasping his heavy cape to fall on the floor. But it does not hold the candle to seeing him undoing his front braid, running a hand through all of his hair and messing it to fall down into its natural state, with the strands that consisted the braid to fall in soft waves at the sides and frame his face, touch his cheekbones in the same way Fuegoleon's fingertips hunger to do.

It's a breathtaking sight, to witness Nozel shed the symbols of the Silva name and his position off his body, especially the cross. Of course, he can't fully do so, as it's a part of him that makes him who he is, however he's lighter of the responsibilities and the burdens and the masks he might wear. This is Nozel becoming vulnerable because he's safe. In front of Fuegoleon's awestruck gaze; for only him.

It never stops filling his head with cotton, setting every fiber of his being ablaze with want and need to keep him close, bound to him.

"After all this, haven't you missed me like I have missed you?" He asks with a sultry whisper and everything but them has faded into a blur. Nozel kisses any possible response from him with unrestrained fierceness.

Fuegoleon tastes the sweetness on his lips and tongue, everywhere in the wet depths of his mouth as he explores it with vigor. His arm settles around his waist to pull them impossibly closer together, the other on this shoulder blades, so that not even air can get in between them.

Nozel moans lowly, the vibration travelling to Fuegoleon's lips and as shivers down his spine. He closes his eyes, his shoulders relaxing and fully settling himself on the cushions, letting go of his iron-clad control and seriousness aside. He can’t help but being like this when under Nozel’s lustful amethyst gaze, intoxicated faster with each frantic heartbeat, tumbling over the edge. It'd feel unorthodox to do this here in the office, but only if it were the first time. They have inaugurated both of their offices years ago when they became magic knights.

The lack of air makes them pull away, their breaths intermingle, their gazes locked. Nozel's eyes have a glassy resplendence to them, his cheeks now a full attractive apple red. His hair shines like a silver halo under the bright moonlight, silky to the touch. He can't stop looking, can't prevent his heart from pounding uncontrollably inside his chest.

Of course, such a perfect moment falls with a horrible crash; and this one with the worst way possible- the reminder of his mind gearing up and overthinking again.

His conflict must show in his face as Nozel frowns, his eyebrows pulling down and lifting himself up to look down at him.

Fuegoleon doesn't say anything; Nozel can read his uncovered expression like the spells in his own grimoire.

"I don't appreciate being left in the dark for long." he states, voice devoid of its lyricism despite his still flustered cheeks, unable to fully shake off the traces of intoxication.

Fuegoleon tries to placate him for both their sakes; neither of them is at their best to continue this conversation. Tired in separate and similar ways alike, and with Fuegoleon's inner conflict putting and slowly more and more obvious barrier between them. Maybe Nozel would be better away from him, maybe he thought wrong about his need to see him right now when everything is unbalanced.

More than ever since he woke up, he feels Salamander's presence as something foreign. Like eyes prying to such a moment in his private life, breathing down his neck and causing it to freeze. Salamander knows even as Fuegoleon contemplates, observing this relationship and knowing if it's written in celestial stone or not.

He goes forth, as he always tries to do. All the days of awful sleep are revealing their effect on him, another headache rings on the back of his head, no different from the other ones. One question has succeeded to what many of his enemies have not; send him into a crisis, wear him out completely. Nozel, too asks for nothing less than the straight-forward truth.

“I discovered a way to… find out who my soulmate is.” He closes his eyes before continuing, “When Salamader accepted me, I was given the opportunity to ask and learn.” He finally says, opening them again, looking right into Nozel’s eyes, their reaction.

He sees utter surprise first, the most harmless. Then comes the confusion and with that hurt and the anger. The way Nozel’s face contorts is worse than a sword piercing his chest, making his heart bleed to the floor in streams. His eyes lose all their lust and his fingers clench on his shirt before heaving himself up and away to stand on the other side of the room, fast and efficient, all the buzz of the alcohol gone.

“So? Did you?”

Fuegoleon sits up too and places his elbows on his knees. He shakes his head, “I didn’t.”

“Why?” he presses icily, “If it troubles you so?”

It’s his turn to be surprised, whipping his head up suddenly to look at him in astonishment, “That’s not…” he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, “And you’re alright with that?” he asks in return. From the tone of the other’s voice, it’s clear that he’s angry, but he can’t envision the precise why.

“Do you actually care of what I think at this point?”

“Of course!” he rebukes fiercely, “What will happen in case it-”

“it isn’t me?” a cruel quirk of his lips appears, contrasting so greatly with his delicate, tousled and serene appearance.

“Nozel-”

“Do not impose your doubts on my choices, Fuegoleon. Especially due to something as fickle as soulmates.”

He watches in astonishment as Nozel picks himself up layer by layer, from his clothes, his braid to the final touches, making him seem as prim and pristine and unreachable as his reputation makes him. He never felt them, to him Nozel was always within his grasp, safe in their years of closeness. In this moment though, all of that is gone and he stares at the image Nozel projects to everyone else more than his real self.

He stands on the door, hand gripping the doorknob tightly but ultimately staying still, back turned to his direction.

“Isn’t belonging to me, like this, enough?”

He gets up to grab him, keep him here and not leave with that air of dread and finality he leaves behind. The door closes on his face. With a string of curses, he punches it, like it’s an endless, impenetrable wall.

He won’t chase Nozel futher, he doesn’t have the right to; not while his mind is still torn apart and he has no answer to what course he wants their relationship to go to. The question must be answered first, be weighted properly on the scales before he dares ask for Nozel to listen to what he has to say.

* * *

Truthfully, for the next few days, the gap between them becomes apparent.

Mereoleona, who knows about them for more than two decades, notices immediately, her questioning gaze and narrowed eyes, following him around when they are in the same place.

“Haven’t seen you this sulky since we were teenagers. Trouble in paradise?” she asks, only half teasingly.

Fuegoleon only sighs irritably.

“I saw Silva earlier,” she says casually, and Fuegoleon manages to not fully turn to her, but his perking up doesn’t go unnoticed, “Looked really pissed. He told me to ask you if I wanted to know so badly.”

He makes the decision in telling her, after scaling it in his head. As expected, she looks at him with growing disappointment and irritation. It’s been years since he was subjected to that look and not the one giving it.

“You’re such an idiot.” She clicks her tongue in distaste.

“I’m aware.”

“You act like you’re alone in this problem. It’s been a family thing for years.” She looks at him, “Haven’t you read all the diaries on the archives? Great-great-great grandfathers are whining like toddlers for being free.”

A huff of amusement escapes him in response.

“Is it really? Freedom?”

Mereoleona’s eyes sharpen like well-polished knives. “Would you like Nozel in the way you do now if you knew he wasn’t your soulmate? Or if he was, would he be soulmate first and then Nozel to you?”

Silence on his part, pensive and tense.

“Answer the easy questions first and then maybe you can fix this.” Mereoleona slaps him across the back with a mean streak in her strength, “If Nozel dumps you, don’t worry, he won’t be brokenhearted for long.” She grins viciously teeth bared in challenge, “You’re not the only Vermillion eager to warm him up. Without the threat of any otherworldly fossils.”

* * *

He sees Nozel again after seven long and slow days when Julius summons them both and asks them to deliver a scroll to where Asta’s trial is happening.

There is no time to talk personal, but out of habit they travel with Nozel’s mercury eagle, knowing that his perfect control of it will get them there in a heartbeat.

They arrive just in time to stomp the fight that’s about to happen, and it’s satisfactory seeing the sweat in Damnatio’s skin as Salamander coils around him.

With their intervention, the matter is solved quickly. Nozel passes right by him towards Noelle and says something to her. Fuegoleon doesn’t leave and can’t help but observe them and the progress made while he was in the coma. It’s relieving to see the content expression underneath the stoic façade, even though he was the reason for putting the visible frown on his lips.

However, this will change today. Fuegoleon will make sure of it.

Nozel notices him lingering but never makes any move towards nor away from him. Fuegoleon takes it as an opportunity to walk him back to the Silva mansion. Using magic to transport himself is far easier, but thankfully, Nozel gratifies his invitation.

It’s a fairly long walk, all spent in silent tension. The hints of anxiety are there for him to notice in Nozel’s features whereas his mana shows nothing, a result of much trained discipline.

When the crowds thins out to only them and the mansion is seen from afar, Fuegoleon starts speaking. No preludes, simply the words he wants to convey to the one he loves.

“I am deeply sorry, Nozel.” He stops and stands before the other.

Nozel looks up at him, fear flickers on his gaze. “I presume you know now?”

Fuegoleon quickly catches on the implications and hurries to correct them, “No, no Nozel, I…” he raises his hands to reach out but thinks otherwise and lowers them, “I didn’t ask…I refused the offer and I will continue to do so.”

The fear lessens but doesn’t disappear completely and Fuegoleon won’t stand for it. He wants to wipe out any poisonous doubts he created by his own selfishness.

“Temptation of something that was lost in my family overcame me and it threw me in doubt, where it should be none. Nozel, I…I have loved you since the first moment. So strongly that it overwhelmed me. At times I thought that the clues added on some connection…how our bodies complimented each other perfectly, the rush of emotions in such a short time…the thought of you being my soulmate has always been there.”

It’s not the best place to start, Nozel is already apprehensive and just as stiff, but Fuegoleon would be even more unfair to him if he didn’t explain so many years of thought process. He hadn’t then in his younger days, but he will now; to burn the last secrets that threaten to raise a wall between them into ash.

“I searched a lot about it, in my adolescence. Found nothing more than known, even in the secret Vermillion archives.” He takes a deep breath, lets the weariness show with a hint of exasperation, “But then…I had stopped caring. Because all I knew was how I felt about you was real and I wanted to last…to make it last by my own volition.”

In those past few days too, he searched once more. To everything he could get his hands on, the more well-hidden of his family’s archives, now that he had free access.

But it was then and there when he realized that he was trying to make sense of something that was already pointless to make logic from. Much like his ambitions, the love he has nurtured for Nozel is simply _there_…burning and pushing him forward into a happy fulfilled life.

In all the maturity that he gained with experience into life, it was his past self, the insolent teenager that flushed with each lilac look, would punch the daylights out of present-him for hurting Nozel in any way, filled with impulsivity and carelessness that was right to set him back on the right path. The one that simply enjoyed the beauty that held his heart, uncaring of why it happened in the first place, but knowing that his own feelings belong to him alone. That whether or not a compass was there, he would carve his own path with his bare hands.

_Soulmates don’t always love each other_ he must remind himself. A lesson that wasn’t as common knowledge as to most others. He grew up with the clarity that non-soulmates could adore each other, but not the other way around.

Maybe it was the reason that, deep in his mind, he had put the unreachable bond as something extraordinary.

And that turned out to taint what was already in his reach, take it for granted.

“It was selfish of me to ask more than the perfection I already have… of us.” Now he reaches out and he smiles, a vulnerable thing that only Nozel knows, when he meets no resistance or repulsion, “Like an inconsiderate fool, I tried to enforce another role on you, make you carry my wishes.”

They are both weighted by their surroundings; Royals, Captains, Eldest Brothers and all those entail in turn. To each other, however, they were Fuegoleon and Nozel first. He broke an oath of trust when he thought that wasn’t enough.

“I hope you grant me a chance to make it all right.”

In the next beat of silence, no more words are spoken. The words settle in, Nozel keeps looking at him in the searching look of his that leaves him bare and exposed. Fuegoleon lets him gladly, hopes his eyes reflect the deep repentance of his anxious heart.

A hand slowly drags up to that very heart, cold even through his shirt’s fabric yet it sends all kinds of heat inside him. His rabid pulse tries to touch those fingers and escape his chest.

Nozel sighs deeply; the stoic façade that he held vanishes and Fuegoleon can now freely be allowed to read the relief, the lingering hurt and the exasperation.

“I will not be subjected to this kind of disrespect again.” he orders.

A hearty chuckle, breathy in his surprise, escapes him, “Of course. Never. I promise.” His voice is wobbly, his eyes moist. He will keep this vow, everything else be damned. Losing Nozel brought dreadful darkness in him, the thought of not belonging to him, belonging to another had settled slowly like venom in him, slowly torturing him, asphyxiating him.

(His beloved must have felt the same anguish, all because of his inconsideration and doubts.)

In this one moment, he feels the oxygen coursing through his blood and sending life to his whole being anew.

Nozel decides to keep him on his toes, humming noncommittally, but a light he missed is much returns to his features. Alabaster, prim yet calloused fingers travel to his shoulder to his right arm, featherlight touch grazing his biceps and forearm through his clothes. They lower to the skin of his palm, sending pleasant coolness to all his nerves, before intertwining with his own for a couple of long and magnificent seconds. He lets go and continues his path to the Silva mansion, his steps subtly quicker.

Fuegoleon catches up to his side, closer that before, their arms brushing. It’s odd, how much it all reminisces of a time so many years ago- when their shyness yet also hurry were to be expected.

The two are all over each other the moment they step into Nozel’s quarters, Fuegoleon licks every part of Nozel’s mouth like a man starved and close to death. His hands are firm on his lower waist, pulling him as if to mold them together.

They are both breathless when the kiss breaks, gasping for air, breathing each other’s lips.

“I missed you. So much.” He pants the words that have been sitting on his lungs since he woke up.

Nozel’s eyes widen and he chuckles, a pleasant lullaby that soothes all the restlessness of the previous days away.

“You’re intolerable.” he responds, fondly, voice hinting a storm underneath. Fuegoleon doesn’t disagree, kissing his cheek, his jaw, to the long white column of his neck.

He’s pushed back quickly while deep in adoring the pale skin, falls to the bed limply. In a continuation of the last time, Nozel sits on top of him. This time all his clothes remain intact.

The expression in his eyes, playful with still aggravation swimming in there, Fuegoleon knows he is in for a frustrating yet, in its own way, delightful punishment. Nozel isn’t planning any cutesy, soft antics this time.

He uses his magic to cuff his hands above his head and while he can burn the restraints, he doesn’t want to in the slightest. He lets himself in Nozel’s mercy, take the anger out on him in this fashion.

Fuegoleon’s frustration and lust are already pent up, roaring in his veins with each second on Nozel’s challenging, erotic face. The cuffs cave by accidentally melting parts of them, but they are easily replaced with new ones. There is no doubt, he’s not meant to touch in any way, only stay put and watch what he almost missed by his own foolishness.

Their clothes stay on for far too long, Nozel plays him like a well-practiced instrument, never setting a pace to his grinding down on him, changing the rhythm every time he senses something other than frustration, preventing him from thrusting up in response by locking his legs down and straight. His neck and collarbone become littered with bruises that are impossible to hide.

When the fourth pair of cuffs is now completely incinerated, Nozel claims his lips for a biting kiss, invading his mouth with no resistance from his part while he stays firm on his lap, his ass pressing just right on top of the bulge of his pants.

Long, thin fingers grab his jaw and hold it in place with impressive strength “Are you watching?” he says lowly, challenge painting his voice.

In his delirium he doesn’t understand at first. His eyes have never left him, not one moment.

_However, he’s not the one actually being addressed to._

A silent chuckle escapes him, incredulous. He isn’t spared a moment though; his clothes are quickly ripped and torn carelessly and so do Nozel’s, only with a lot of carefulness and effort. He leaves the Silva cross for last. To Fuegoleon’s heart’s unabundant joy, there is no hesitation in taking it off. The weight wears out like his caught breath, stolen again by the gorgeous sight in front of him.

He takes on new heights after that; Nozel obscures any possible glimpse of his preparation, leaving his eyes to roam the front as the beads of sweat shine of his skin, cascade down his chest and abdomen, pointing towards his flushed pink cock. Rides Fuegoleon like he’s born for it, with fluid ethereal motions from strong thighs that never lack power, claims his body for himself. The heat and their sounds of pleasure keep building up, the rest of the world stops existing beyond them. When he’s close to his climax, Nozel rips him out of it, grabs him from his base where they are connected and holds him there to pant and groan in dissatisfaction.

“What’s wrong, Vermillion?” Nozel taunts in the tilt of his voice, pure playfulness, borderline sadism.

He parts his lips to respond, but the clenching around him turns all words to grunting and growling uselessly.

It takes long time for Nozel to be satisfied, coming twice before letting him join too on his third. He comes buried deep inside tight velvety walls. At Nozel’s pleased hum and panting, the magic retreats from his wrists, letting him freely move again or change their position. Yet he doesn’t, he can’t think of a better place than the one he’s in, with the magnificent view he’s privileged to marvel.

What he does trail his fingers up Nozel’s spine, from his tail bone to his nape, coaxing him for another kiss he’s been starving from- one as deep and languid as the others, but much slower. The other grants that to him, and he feels pure softness from plump lips, exhumed of any urgent intensity.

They lay together on the bed, silver head on Fuegoleon’s chest, lithe body curled on his side. His breathing evens out, eyes closed but he doesn’t fall asleep just yet.

Fuegoleon traces shapes into his back. His own tiredness envelopes him slowly too, after days of anxiety and restlessness.

“Stop staring, you oaf.” Nozel murmurs, hiding his face further on his chest. A chuckle comes rumbling from his chest and presses a kiss to the crown of his head, buries his nose to his orchid scented silver locks.

Before he’s pulled into the darkness of sleep, now at long last in peace with it, he thinks of the question one last time.

_‘Do you want to know your other half?’_

_What’s more to know, when he has him in his arms?_

**Author's Note:**

> Fave character: *has fire related powers*  
Me: You burn like a furnace baby!
> 
> Tumblr @ callalilalma
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


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